


Drawn to you

by fifthnorthumberland



Series: As God would touch the clay [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifthnorthumberland/pseuds/fifthnorthumberland
Summary: Someone manages to capture Nicolò's image better than Yusuf who gets a little envious.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: As God would touch the clay [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197767
Comments: 5
Kudos: 138





	Drawn to you

Nicolò is at the market, picking up things to prepare supper when a young girl of maybe 16 or 17 years of age approaches him. He'd noticed her watching him earlier from a few stalls away, but figured it was because she'd never seen someone quite as pale as he, even with him skin now slightly tanned. Without saying a word she hands him a piece of paper and seems to wait for his appraisal. He looks at it and sees himself on the page, drawn with skill, in between stalls in this very market. Unsure if this is appropriate, but not wanting to obfuscate such an innocent young person, he accepts the portrait and thanks her. He's about to ask her name when she turns around and leaves, a blush high on her cheeks.

Upon returning home, he leaves the drawing on the table as he takes the ingredients out of his bag and gets distracted with starting a fire and fetching water, then cutting vegetables and roasting meat. He forgets about the drawing until Yusuf comes out of the little house they share to greet him, holding the drawing.

After asking about his day, and telling Nicolò of his when prompted, he holds up the drawing and asks Nicolò "And when did someone make your portrait, my love?". It's teasing, but Nicolò can tell there is a bit of something else behind his tone.

"Oh, a young girl at the market gave it to me. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just took it and thanked her. I didn't even get her name."

"She's talented."

"Yes, I can see that. You can have it, if you want." Nicolò offers. This portrait is not important to him, not when Yusuf has made dozens of sketches and finished portraits of him, painstakingly, lovingly. This is the work of a quickly infatuated teenager he will never see again beyond their stay in this city. Yusuf looks at the drawing attentively and nods as Nicolò goes back to stirring the pot. Dinner is almost ready.

They eat in companionable silence and when Yusuf came back from rinsing their bowls, he was pouting.

"Yusuf, what is it?"

Yusuf shook his head and laughed but with little of the mirth Nicolò so enjoyed usually.

"She got you just right, Nico. A teenager who doesn't know you, and she managed to capture the parts of you that still elude me. Ha!"

Reassured this isn't serious, Nicolò smiles at Yusuf with compassion. That must be a bit frustrating, indeed.

"I've been in love with you for 5 years and she looks at you for 5 minutes and...and makes this!" Yusuf gestures to the paper, bewildered. "Your posture, your nose, the shape of your eyes, even from afar..."

He can tell that Yusuf is actually a bit upset by this, though he's unsure why.

"Yusuf, you can't compare your art to hers, your love to...a minute's infatuation. She may have talents you don't, but we have time. And you know me better than anyone ever has or ever will."

Yusuf sighs and then chuckles a laugh at himself again, combing his hand through his short curls. They're growing longer than in past months and Nicolò loves how it softens his lover.

Yusuf walks over to him and wraps his arms around Nicolò's back, dropping his face to his neck as he often does. "I'm a ridiculous man," he says with a laugh, a sort of apology. Unnecessary.

"I love you as you are."

Yusuf pulls away to look at Nicolò, eyebrows raised and a smile full of humour teasing at the corner of his lips.

"You're not refuting my ridiculousness?"

"No." Nicolò says with a smile.

He gets a kiss for his honesty.

Later, by the fire, he sits with Yusuf, mending one of their saddle bags. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Yusuf studying him, charcoal in hand and parchment in his lap. Nicolò feels immensely lucky to be so loved that Yusuf would want to immortalize his image even as his has him by his side, immortal in flesh and bones and blood and heart.


End file.
